


Siren Song

by Runie (Runic)



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Intersex Loki, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Siren Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From his island prison, Loki sings to lure sailors to their deaths, and plots the death of the one who trapped him.</p>
<p>Thor, Prince of Golden Asgard, is determined to destroy the monstrous threat to his people, no matter his father’s objections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siren Song

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve wanted to do a siren Loki story for awhile now, but when I went to do some research, I ended up changing the entire plot. Instead of the water siren we see so often, I decided to combine the myth of Loki shape shifting into a falcon and the bird version of sirens. So instead of being more closely connected with water, Loki’s element will be wind. I kind of confused by beta with how this is set up, but I assure you, further explanations will be forth coming in the next chapter.

Wind was what he missed most. The breezes that sometimes whipped over his island were but a pale imitation. To be in flight, to have the wind surrounding him, to breathe it in as if it were already a part of himself; there were not many things Loki Laufyson remembered of his homeland, but the wind always remained, its memory fresher than his recollection of his own mother’s face.

The clash of blades, the cry of horns, those he also remembered. They had grown closer throughout the day. Býleistr, still too young to join the warriors, stayed with Loki throughout those long hours. When the Æsir crashed through the door, dragging a wounded but still fighting Fárbauti between them, Býleistr was no match for them.  They were rounded up like cattle, the rulers now of nothing more than ruins. Loki clung to his dam’s legs, not yet able to understand the severity of his family’s predicament. His sire and elder brother stood before the Æsir, the one with bleed weeping from his missing eye. In a flash of light, Laufey and Helblindi disappeared. Then, in his final memory of Jotunheim, the Æsir turned to the remainder of the royal family. The light engulfed him, tearing him away from his dam, away from the cold and snow of his homeland, away from the wind that had accepted him so completely.

Loki held on tight to the image of the one eyed Æsir. From the moment he woke on his island, he allowed himself to be consumed by hatred for the creature that had ripped his family apart. He vowed to rip out the Æsir’s other eye and present it to his father as a gift, just as soon as he could find a way off this cursed island.

That had been almost five thousand years ago, not that Loki kept track of time anymore. The Æsir’s magic was strong, too strong for Loki’s own untempered skills to break. Loki could climb down the sheer cliffs that made up the sides of the island, but just before Loki could feel the sensation of the salt water on his skin, he reached a barrier that prevented any further movement. No matter how hard he tried, Loki could not make his way past the spell. Tenacity was one of Loki’s defining traits, though some would call it stubbornness.

From the eternal spring fields that covered the summit of his island, Loki was forced to watch the waves as they crashed against the rocks of the cliffs. That he wanted for nothing did not lessen his resentment. The branches of the trees were always heavy with fruit. Small creatures for which Loki had no name were a constant. The grass served as his bed. An ever flowing river cut through the center of the island to crash over two sides of the cliffs as giant waterfalls, the shoreline never changing.

It had not been long before Loki discovered that his curse was not isolation alone. He had been pulled to the edge of the island, staring in fascination as white sails appeared over the horizon. The song had ripped from his throat without permission, calling the sailors to him. He continued to sing, even as the ship crashed against the rocks jutting up around the shoreline, another imposing barrier to Loki’s prison.

Loki had accepted that he would lure seafarers to their deaths, twisting the song until it was of his own making, a tune that shot fear into the heart and triggered bursts of adrenalin, rather than the calm and soothing melody the one eyed Æsir had planned.

And yet, centuries into his imprisonment, a lone sailor on a small sloop made it past the rocks. Loki could barely believe it, and yet, there he was, climbing up the sheer cliff face, cashing the sound of Loki’s enchanted voice. There were close calls, Loki’s heart leaping up into his throat each time the sailor’s grip slipped, but eventually he pulled himself over the edge and collapsed at Loki’s feet. For three glorious months Loki had company. He brought with him the knowledge of language, stars, currents, even his own culture. Loki, eager for all of it, unaware that the sailor was so captivated by Loki’s voice he could not even think to ask for food or sleep, watched him slowly waste away. He was devastated when the man died, and buried him on the northeastern corner of the island.

From then on, each sailor that came within the trap of his prison, gave him hope that he would, at least for some time, no longer be alone. It did not happen often, but once in a century someone conquered the trials and saw the face of the beautiful Jotun turned Siren. Loki took knowledge from each of them, sharpening his wits with each visitor. One overeager visitor had gifted Loki with the awareness of pleasure. After that, Loki took many of his lessons on his back.

His visitors were slaves to his voice, his every whim their greatest desires. It was fun for a time, but they offered no challenge. Loki wanted company and pleasure that were not brought to him by his curse. He wanted to see the civilizations his visitors spoke of so fondly. But more than anything, Loki wanted revenge. He would find the one eyed Æsir, this King of Golden Asgard, and make him suffer. He would him his dam’s own prison and free Fárbauti. While his dam restored Jotunheim to the glory Loki only had fleeting memories of, he would rescue his brothers and his sire.

And then, then they would make Asgard suffer as they had.

/

Thor had grown up on the stories of terrible monsters: the beautiful woman who was half fish, who enchanted men and dragged them to a watery death; the angry giant trapped under the mountain, whose temper would rain down fire and destruction;  a man who turned into a wolf, whose bite was said to change others into mirrors of himself; the many headed serpent and the three headed dog, guardians of dark treasures long forgotten by men.

As truly terrifying as all those creatures were, the most devastating was the Siren, the creature whose voice enslaved sailors and caused them to crash their own ships. His island sat near a major shipping lane. Many took a longer way round to avoid the danger, which caused the prices of trade goods to increase. Others attempted the danger, but added hazard pay to their goods, so there was no benefit to the peoples of Asgard paying the final price in the end. No other monster caused more distress for his people than the deciteful and hated Siren.

As far as Thor was concerned, the creature had been allowed to live for too long. His concerns might as well have been nonsense ravings where his father was concerned. For all the stories of Odin’s own bravery, Thor could not phantom why his father had for so long allowed the Siren control of the sea.

“Thor, this is a stupid idea.”

Thor threw a bag of supplies into the hull of the small sloop before turning his attention to his long time friend. “Not if we come back with the creature’s head, Sif. We will be hailed as heroes. I did not think you one to back away from a glorious fight.”

Sif rolled her eyes as she threw her own pack on top of Thor’s. “That may have worked with the others, but it will not be so successful with me. I am coming to watch your back. If you died on this venture, I might actually shed a tear at your sheer stupidity.”

Thor let loose a loud laugh, only to be shushed by Fandral, who had been checking the sails. “There will be no sneaking this ship out of the harbor if you alert everyone to our presence. “

“Yes,” Hogun agreed, seemingly materializing from the gloom. “Nor will we if Heimdall spots us.”

“Then there is no time to waste, my friends. Let us be off to rid Asgard of her foe once and for all.”


End file.
